


Under the Rain

by relictionism (orphan_account)



Category: Real life - Fandom
Genre: Gen, Slice of Life, non-fiction
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-21
Updated: 2019-05-21
Packaged: 2020-03-09 03:34:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 965
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18908698
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/relictionism
Summary: a retelling of the time i didn't have an umbrella, standing under the rain at the crosswalk.





	Under the Rain

 

May was supposedly the month infamous for its bountiful summer showers, but as the past few (torturously dry) weeks had shown, it proved false. In the previous two months, I could count the number of times it rained with one hand.

The day was as normal as any, with the exception of me actually leaving the house for once since summer vacation had begun. I planned on running errands, along with spending time with a friend who I'd invited out— A break in the routine, a rare occurrence.

But it just _had_ to be that day that the Gods chose to spite me, and I could only bitterly curse at the clouds whose showers poured over my head. Rain seeped into my clothes, effectively drenching me from top to bottom. Though I wasn't the type of person to be bothered by a shower under the rain, what I really only cared for were the contents of my bag.   
With that in mind, I'd ran from the spot my friend and I had parted ways on, sprinting as fast as my feet would take me to the crosswalk that would take me near my house. As luck would so graciously (note the sarcasm) give me, though, the moment I stepped onto the pavement, the traffic light turned green.

Cars sped by in front of me, and I could do naught but stand there under the storm, glasses folded in one hand, as I anticipated the red light.

But then the drops landing onto the crown of my head stopped, and for a second I had the naiveté to think that the storm had suddenly paused. Maybe it was only a quick shower, I remember thinking then. But looking at the waters running down the road, that seemed not to be the case.

I looked up, greeted with the sound of rain pattering onto the fabric of a black umbrella. Turning my head to the right, I spotted the man who held it up over our heads.   
He was taller than me (the usual case, really) with neatly-combed black hair swept to the left and black eyes that reflected the lights of cars and buildings. I noted he was pale, though that might've only been an illusion caused by the white shirt he wore. His jaw, sharp and masculine, was free of stubble.

My first instinct was to bow my head slightly, afterwards offering him my thanks. The way his eyes looked at me told of a time he'd been in a situation similar to my own.

"I didn't really expect it to rain," I tried, one hand rubbing up my soaked sleeve, "So I didn't think to bring an umbrella. Kinda stupid, to be honest."

"The rain's bound to continue everyday from here on." was his simple reply. I couldn't think of any other topic to bring up, and so could only stay quiet.

Staring up at the traffic lights, I stood next to the man, our shoulders pressing together in only the _slightest_ under the cramped space of his umbrella. In that moment, all l could really think was _'How long is it going to stay green? Why is it taking longer than usual?_ ' and so on. I knew there was a flush in my cheeks, but was it caused by the cold or from the kind gesture of the man? I didn't know, and I didn't have the time to think about it.

"Hey, the light's red. We should cross now."

Our steps were slow together, though in sync. Each climb up the small bridge at the other end of the crosswalk was taken side by side, and by the time we reached the point below it, I snuck a look at him again, pointing down the road in front of us.

"I'm going straight into the road ahead. Where are _you_ headed?" I asked, almost dreading his answer, a little bit.

"To the bus stops," he replied, pointing to the path down to our right.

I'd thanked him again then, ready to part ways and make a mad dash back the rest of the way home, but it'd confused me when he took a sharp turn left just as _I_ had. I was still safe under his umbrella as we made our way down the road leading to the street where I lived.

"I thought you were going to the bus stops?" I asked, more confused than curious.

"And let a girl like you run through the rain? If it's alright, I'll just walk you to where you're going."

There it was again, the warmth in my cheeks.

Walking down my street, I'd only look to the ground, stare at the puddles we passed by in silence together. Somehow, it wasn't awkward— Like the rain did the speaking _for_ us as we all but listened to the thunder rolling and the rain patter onto different surfaces, creating different noises. It reminded me of a symphony orchestra, in a way.

Once I'd stopped walking by the familiar green gate in front of my house, I would fully turn to the man then. Bowing my head, I'd thank him— the third time already, but it wasn't enough to express my gratitude.

"Thanks a lot for walking me home. I really, _really_ appreciate it," I'd said, eyes to his, a small, sheepish smile on my face.

"It wasn't any trouble. Take care, and bring an umbrella with you because I probably won't be there next time."

I liked his laugh.. It was warm, and melodic.

With a final thanks, I started pushing past the gate, feeling the raindrops sliver down the back of my neck again.

The only thing I really regretted about it was not asking for his name, or at least telling him mine.

**Author's Note:**

> no i really don't know what his name is lmao 
> 
> shoutout to that guy btw he's great. a c o o l dude, really. woulda probably got my phone in my bag soaked if it weren't for him.
> 
> as a friend of mine said, and i quote, "THAT'S LIKE SOME PRETTY LOVE STORY TYPE SHIT MY DUDE"   
> bc s a m e   
> apparently kindness exists in the world. it's been four hours since this happened and i'm still s h o o k.


End file.
